Crazy Enough to Be Real
by damtoti
Summary: Lovino begins receiving strangely romantic letters from an unknown admirer. As far as he knows, the whole thing is a prank set up to fool him, even if the letter writer seems determined to woo him, and his friends seem to know more than they let on. College AU.
1. Chapter 1

**A.N. **Written for **prucan4evar** in the Romerica Exchange 2.

Ugh, this is probably the first "happy" story I've written in my LIFE, and I worked really hard to kick away the angst, which kept trying to sneak into the plot line. Feel free to point out any grammar or spelling issues in this thing.

* * *

It was the fifth time this week. The fifth time Lovino had received one of those prank emails that he had been moving to his spam folder for the past two months.

The first time was no big deal. He had been a bit cautious since the sender wasn't an email address he recognized, but he ended up reading the message out of curiosity.

_Hello, dis iz ur secret admirer ;)_

What the hell was this? A shitty impersonation of a twelve-year-old's love confession?

Lovino had rolled his eyes and marked the message for deletion.

Then he had started getting texts, and papers were showing up near his belongings, and after he subdued his panic over having a stalker, Lovino managed to rationalize that no one in their right mind would ever fall for _him_.

The whole thing was clearly just an immature, obsessive prank. With all the bad grammar, cheesy pickup lines, and attempts at subtlety it clearly couldn't possibly be serious.

But seriously, what college student actually had time for this shit, genuine or not?

Lovino's first guess was Gilbert, one of his roommate's dumb friends. He seemed just the type to come up with such an elaborate scheme for no other reason than to cover up the fact he had no life. And he probably asked his nearly as obnoxious friend, Francis, to help with the stupid, perverted lines.

Such as the bit about how his eyes 'shone like molten gold in the sunlight', or how his 'bronzed skin resembled a field of wheat' and—and all that dumb shit! Lovino was better than that! As a literature major, he was hardly impressed by a couple cliché lines that clearly came from a young adult romance novel.

If the culprit _was _Gilbert, Lovino decided he wouldn't respond to the annoying influx of letters. Attention was exactly what that loser wanted, and showing any reaction—especially anger—would only encourage him. The only option was to continue each day like nothing had happened. That would show the jobless bastard.

So each morning Lovino moved the new letter he discovered to a temporary trash folder (he planned to store the huge group so he could delete them all at once…eventually), and then got prepared for the day.

Morning classes were hardly thrilling to begin with, and even worse when followed by an afternoon job. Still, at least Lovino had a few hours between class and work for a brief nap. His poor roommate, Antonio, always crawled out of bed far earlier than him, and then worked without break until much later.

Lovino might have felt sorry for him, but it was Antonio's fault for being such a fucking doormat. Come on, who else would willingly accept such a shitty time schedule? If he expected Lovino to feel sorry for him, he definitely didn't!

Lovino, on the other hand, prided himself in his lazy work ethic and sloppy performance. He knew how to stand up for himself. If anyone asked him to do something he didn't want to, he would respond with a definite 'NO' and maybe shoot them the middle finger for emphasis. Nothing could keep him at work longer than he needed to be.

Just then, his phone beeped. The irritated glare disappeared from his face once he saw it was a text from his friend and coworker, Belle.

_Lovino, I'm so sorry! Something came up today and I need someone to cover my shift. I know you hate staying late, so if you don't want to it's fine. But I'd appreciate it so so much! :)_

Lovino sighed as he began punching in his reply. No one could push him into doing anything he didn't want to, unless it was a pretty girl in need of his help.

And that was how he ended up slouched over the pizza counter in the university's dining hall at 7 p.m., one of its busiest hours. The thing Lovino hated most about evening hours was that most of the students were done with classes, and came to eat with their friends. This made the area crowded and noisy, clustered with groups of laughing students, and subsequently made his blood pressure rise.

Stupid kids, stupid food, stupid work.

Damn it, at least Belle had promised to cover one of his earlier shifts sometime. He was definitely taking a day off the next chance he got.

The only present solution he found was to glare at every student that walked by in hopes of dissuading them from his counter. There was plenty of other disgusting carb-ridden food found elsewhere in the dining hall, and those that were especially daring they could choose to venture to the salad bar.

Unfortunately, one particular diner seemed impervious to Lovino's death glare, not at all taking the hint when Lovino scoffed with distaste at his terrible fashion sense.

"Ooh, pizza!" he exclaimed, and trotted straight over.

The student lay both hands on the glass, pressing his face closer for a better view. All Lovino could think of was the extra wiping down he would do after to remove the sweaty palm stains.

Lovino cleared his throat. "Did you want something?"

His words seemed to snap the student's trancelike fixation towards the food. His eyes shot up to meet his, and Lovino quickly looked away. He didn't like eye contact to begin with, and maybe it was the intense blue of his eyes, but the gaze seemed to have lasted a little longer than necessary.

After a moment of scrutiny, the boy's face split into a smile. "Hey...hey, I know you!"

Lovino sure as hell didn't recognize _him_, so he merely sighed in exasperation. "Yeah, sure, _hi_. Cheese or pepperoni?"

"No, really! Lovino, right? Don't you remember me? I'm Alfred, the kid you would always yell at in middle school!"

Lovino rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"Aw, come on!" He persisted, insistently tapping his fingers against the glass. "You know—the kid in that class you TAed for! Damn, what was the teachers name. Um… I can't remember! It was English though. You graded our essays."

It didn't ring a bell at first, but then, as Lovino's eyes drifted up from the boy's plate of junk food topped with more junk food, he noticed the catchphrase shirt, the crooked glasses, and the electric blue eyes with eyebrows raised too high in excitement.

_Alfred?_

The spatula dropped from his fingers.

Oh shit!

Alfred was the clueless, scrawny loser he used to pick on in middle school. He was an idiot at English and Lovino got a kick out of writing obnoxiously rude and insulting notes on his essays. Only now he was _tall_. And _big_. And crap, were those muscles?

Alfred's grin spread wider. "Remember now? You also gave me an F on that paper I worked really hard on, but you were nice enough to change it to a D when I started crying!"

Lovino took a hasty step back. "I—I didn't mean it—I always thought you were a great—"

"But seriously," he was cut off, "it was so long ago, and now I'm a freshman! And you must be a junior! I've seen you around campus loads of times, but I never managed to catch you—you're pretty good at slipping away! It's great I finally found a chance to say hi!"

Oh god, was that a threat? That definitely sounded like a threat! Alfred's tone was jovial and sincere, but he doubted he would just drop everything from the past. For fuck's sake, five years ago Lovino had tried stuffing his head in a toilet! Granted, he ended up slipping on some toilet paper as he tried shoving Alfred into the stall, which ended up making the twerp laugh rather than cry—but his action was definitely full of ill intent and people didn't really let things like that go.

Alfred leaned his elbows on the counter, his fists clenched. "Man, those were some good times. Maybe we can catch up some time, alright?"

Lovino bobbed his head in a swift nod, stammering an agreement—anything to make him go away. He wouldn't start a fight in a cafeteria, _right_?

Lovino screeched as Alfred lunged forward…

…and reached for the fallen spatula? Before Lovino could sputter his protest, Alfred served himself a slice of cheese pizza, and then a slice of pepperoni, and then two pieces of garlic bread.

"You've got such a cool job though!" Alfred said. "I have no idea how you dining hall workers don't just end up eating all this stuff yourself!"

He raised one steaming slice of pizza to catch a dangling string of cheese in his mouth. He slurped it up with an obnoxious smack of the lips, and then wiped the grease off with the sleeve of his shirt.

Lovino was too shocked to respond with much more than a choked sound.

"Well, catch you later, dude."

Alfred shot him a crooked grin, and then spun around with his tray of precariously stacked food and shuffled towards the seating area.

It took a moment for Lovino to recompose himself, but when he did, he came to the realization that the Alfred he used to know hadn't changed at all.

He was still a huge fucking loser.

* * *

_"Alfred."_

_Alfred's head jerked up. Though he rarely heard him speak, he instantly recognized the English TA's voice. "Hey, Lovino! What's up?"_

_Lovino's nose wrinkled with displeasure at being spoken to with such familiarity. He slapped a stack of papers down on his desk, spreading them out to reveal a series of red-scribbled notes. "You failed, again."_

_Alfred offered him an apologetic grin, but Lovino didn't seem amused._

_"What the hell?" he snapped, smacking Alfred across the head when the teacher turned to the side. "Are you stupid? You had three chances to make up this paper!"_

_"…Sorry."_

_"No…shut up! You realize that each time you rewrite this I have to read it again, and deal with all your shitty mistakes a second time?"_

_Alfred nodded. "I really tried this time."_

_"Then you clearly need help," Lovino snorted, shoving the papers forward before stalking off._

_As soon as he returned to his seat, Alfred shifted through the pages of his essay. Angry red marks decorated every corner. Words were crossed out, and several informal comments were splattered throughout the free space:_

_'This is such a dumb argument.'_

_'What the hell does this even mean?'_

_'You didn't even read the book, did you?'_

_Lovino was right. He hadn't read the book. Each time Alfred mentally prepared himself to finish the book ahead of time in order to finally impress Lovino, but a few pages in his brain would cry in protest and he would find himself playing video games with Kiku._

He took a deep breath, turning the paper around to stick it in his folder. Then he noticed the little drawing stuck on the back, where the teacher wouldn't see it. It was a sketch of a hand flipping him off, and then a spectacled figure—presumably himself—ducking away from another cartoon character.

_Despite the oddly threatening gun in the other character's arms, the knot within Alfred's stomach melted away. He glanced back up, but Lovino was now glaring at a passage in his own advanced literature book and didn't notice._

_Somehow, Alfred couldn't help but smile._

* * *

Lovino soon forgot about his encounter with Alfred. It appeared the morning shift was free of the pesky freshman, and after a few days he forgot the incident ever took place. Schoolwork and grades took greater priority over his life, and he was already struggling with that because of the intrusive emails that kept spamming his inbox.

It wasn't that the messages themselves were bad. It was the fact that despite his resolution to simply ignore the prankster, his curiosity would not subside, and his mind was constantly bubbling with thoughts on _why _someone spent so much of an effort trying to fool him.

Because the letters couldn't be sincere, right?

When Lovino woke up one morning, his dorm window pried open and a sheet of paper taped to his forehead, he decided he had reached his last straw.

Antonio's sleeping body was bundled up under the covers, enjoying his day off from work. But that wouldn't last long. Lovino would have body slammed Antonio's stomach if he wasn't worried about being held liable for broken ribs; instead, he seized his pillow, marched over, and whammed it into Antonio's face.

"Huh—wh-wha—?" Antonio jolted up, eyes groggy and unfocused. He threw his hands up as he was attacked again. "Lovino? What's wrong?"

"You know exactly what's wrong, bastard!"

"O-Ow! Hey, that isn't nice! If you're mad about the carpet, it was your turn to vacuum!"

"It's not the carpet—it's your stupid friends. Tell them to leave me alone!"

"Hnn? Were they bothering you again? You know they're just teasing." Antonio pulled himself up to a sitting position and rubbed his eyes. "What time is it? 8 AM? _Dios_."

"No, they're _harassing_ me!" Lovino brandished the sheet of paper that had been taped to his forehead, and Antonio squinted to see it. "Look at this! I told you your friends can't intrude in here while I'm sleeping!"

"But Gil and Francis weren't even here last night, so it can't be them! Besides, what's so bad about a letter?"

"It's not _just_ the letter!" he snarled. "It's the emails, the texts, the…the everything! All the fake love letters are getting old! Just tell them to stop!"

"Love letters? Lovino, I really don't think it's them! Francis prefers we go to his apartment, and Gilbert hasn't been around here for weeks! I hardly see him anymore because he's drowning in assignments. Engineer majors have it hard."

"Yeah right. I bet that's just Gilbert's excuse to cover up his lack of brains!"

Antonio sent him an admonishing frown. "Hey, that's not nice!"

Lovino probably should have apologized, at the very least for wrongly accusing Antonio's friends. However, he was presently more occupied with the fact that his two main suspects had been crossed out. Considering the fact he glared at nearly everyone who brushed past him, it shouldn't have been that surprising he had enemies he wasn't aware of.

It was a miracle Antonio didn't hate him, but maybe his brain was too dense to comprehend the emotion of anger. Even now, he was leaning forward with interest, completely neglecting the fact he had been forced out of bed at such an hour and then been wrongly accused.

Antonio pointed at the paper in his hand. "So what does the note say, anyway?"

Come to think of it, Lovino had never bothered to check. He had been so prepared to take his anger out on Antonio he forgot to read the actual message.

He pulled the paper away before Antonio could reach for it. The letters were all chunked together like a kindergartener learning how to write, and the notebook paper was creased.

"Hey, can I see too?" Antonio asked.

"Shut up! I'm concentrating!" Lovino snapped, frowning as he struggled to decipher the writing.

_I love how you always put a smile on my face without trying. :)_

_PS: You look so adorable when you're asleep. But if that sounds creepy, don't worry because I wasn't watching you for that long._

Lovino's face flamed red. What the hell? This asshole had been watching him sleep? Not to mention the postscript was twice as long as the actual message, and doubly embarrassing. As if this was something he wanted to hear from a secret admirer—genuine or not!

"Aww, that's so cute!" Antonio gushed, having crept up behind his shoulder while he was engrossed in reading.

Lovino let out an indignant yelp and crammed the paper into his pocket. "What the hell? Did I say you could look at it?"

"I'm sorry! I was really curious since it's not very often you get a friendly night visitor that drops off mail!"

"What do you mean _night visit_—?" Lovino's eyebrows shot up. "Wait…are you saying…you _saw_ this guy?"

"Yup!" Antonio nodded. "He knocked on the window so I let him in!"

"Wha-_Why_? Why would you do that? Dammit—are you stupid?!"

"I don't get why you're so upset! He climbed all the way up the wall just to bring a letter to you. And it was such a sweet note too!"

"You mean," Lovino hissed, trembling in rage, "you let some stranger who climbed up the wallinto our room because he seemed _nice_?!"

"I guess so? Aw, don't look at me that way! He was really friendly; he even offered to try some of my churros—Ack! Please stop hitting me!"

* * *

_Alfred did his best to look like he was following along with the textbook before him, but his eyes kept drifting to Lovino, who had been assigned a fresh stack of essays to grade. A few other students had followed his example, and were now muttering between themselves in distaste._

_"Ugh, I don't want to see my paper once Lovino's done with it."_

_"Yeah, last time he took off five points just because I used the wrong 'there' in my sentence."_

_Alfred smiled in tune with their remarks, but in reality he saw something different. He watched Lovino's face scrunch up in concentration, his lips moving in tune with the words he muttered aloud. His hand rose up and boldly scratched through a line, and then his forehead creased as he began scribbling angrily._

_The classmate by Alfred's side patted his shoulder reassuringly. "Dude, I think that's your paper he's working on."_

_Lovino was harsh to everyone, but his face took on an exceptionally furious expression when he was dealing with Alfred. A few students nearby murmured in sympathy._

_Alfred simply shrugged. His father had threatened to throw his laptop out the window if he didn't pass his English class, but all he felt at that moment was a vague sense of amusement._

_Lovino was so funny when he was pissed._

* * *

Antonio was lucky he got away with only a few smacks, Lovino thought smugly to himself as he tied an apron around his waist. Not only had Antonio invited an intruder into their flat _without his permission_, he had also served him food and showed him all of Lovino's embarrassing pictures stored on his phone. Damn Antonio, he was supposed to have deleted those.

At least now he was at work, which gave him an opportunity to cool off and clear his mind through physical labor. Today he was assigned to kitchen duties, which allowed him to work away from the chattering of college students.

For the time being, Lovino had left the door open. The dining area wasn't that noisy, and the kitchen could get stuffy without any ventilation. There weren't any supervisors nearby to reprimand him, and he let himself fall into a rhythm of scraping grime off the dishes, rinsing them off, and loading them in the dishwasher.

"_Lovino_!"

Lovino paused, and then shot a glance over his shoulder. There was no one he could see in the room with him, and after a moment, he turned back to the sink, slightly unsettled.

"Psst…_behind the door_!"

Lovino spun around, and this time he caught a trace of familiar blonde in the crack behind the door. Having caught his attention, Belle flashed him a thumbs up and waved. Lovino rolled his eyes but couldn't help but smile in exasperation.

Belle was like Antonio, cheerful and bubbling with energy, but Lovino had a soft spot for her, and generally tried to watch his tongue when she was around. Not that it really mattered. Belle was no delicate damsel in need of protection, and was prone to placing herself in risky situations.

She did a quick take in both directions, and, finding the way clear, dashed into the kitchen and shut the door behind her. She shot him a victorious smile, panting slightly.

Lovino shook his head, turning his attention back to the dishes. "What are you doing? You know you're not supposed to be here right now."

Belle strode up to his side, and rested an arm on his shoulder, peering down at his work. "Don't worry, no one saw me. You have to come with me right now."

"Right now?" Lovino raised his eyebrows. "Belle, I'm at work."

"Why don't you try faking an injury? Squeeze some ketchup on your finger and say you cut it. I've tried that one before!"

Lovino rolled his eyes. The knives they handled weren't even that sharp. It was more likely that Belle had simply asked.

He nudged her away so he could finish loading the dishwasher, and then punched in the time. "What's so important, anyway?"

"_Well_, a mysterious someone showed up yesterday looking for you. He must have thought you had the evening shift."

"Please tell me this isn't what I think it is."

Belle stepped back to lean against the countertop, smiling secretively. "He left a gift, and I offered to hold on to it for you."

Lovino felt his stomach drop. "Fuck, it's a letter, isn't it?"

Belle didn't answer, but her wicked grin was response enough. Before he could protest, she snatched one of his arms and yanked him away from the counter.

"Dammit, Belle, _stop_! Where the hell are we going?" Lovino dragged his feet in protest, but Belle was much stronger than she let on.

"Back to my place. I would have brought the letter here, but it wasn't possible. I just can't wait to see your face when you read it!"

"It's not even real! It's just a prank!" Lovino snapped, but clamped his mouth shut as they stumbled past the main door. He didn't want to attract any attention as they snuck out. Running out on a job wasn't necessarily illegal, but he didn't want to take any chances and get fired.

"How do you know that, hmm?" Belle whispered. "I saw the guy who brought your letter and I can say he looked pretty darn serious."

"You saw him?" Lovino hissed. If Belle knew his identity, he could finally find the guy and end this moronic charade. "Who is he? What did he look like?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. He was wearing a mask."

Lovino turned to her, only capable of sputtering in disbelief. Was he the only one who found the image of a miscreant racing around a college campus in a Halloween costume strange? Why the fuck was no one else questioning it? Dammit, place of education apparently also meant place of insanity.

Belle kept a firm grip around his arm until she finally brought him to her flat. It was no strange place to him, but he generally tried to avoid visits because of her roommate—

"_Lovino_," Elizaveta sing-songed as she swung open the door. "We've been waiting for you!"

Lovino swallowed, jerking his hand up in a hasty greeting, and then dodged by her side to quickly retreat into the kitchen. Belle followed him in with a particularly amused smile, and—to his dismay— Elizaveta stalked in after them.

"She's listening too? Isn't this personal?" he hissed at Belle.

She shrugged, turning a playful eye to Elizaveta. "Well, she insisted she wanted to be here too. Don't worry, I think she has something interesting to tell you."

Elizaveta flashed a grin at him, and Lovino responded with a strained smile.

It wasn't that he _disliked_ Elizaveta. It was just her _demeanor_ that puzzled him. Lovino was normally better at dealing with women than men, because a few sweet words and some chivalry could melt most of them. Elizaveta, on the other hand, was different.

Outwardly, she was a gorgeous girl with long hair and feminine attire, and she generally spoke with politeness and elegance. But when her _real_ voice burst out, she possessed the coarseness of one who commonly partook in tree climbing, pig wrestling, or something equally vulgar.

He had a feeling she was the type of girl who, as a child, had been forced into dresses only to jump straight into a puddle of dirt. Once, when Lovino had offered to help her carry some luggage, Elizaveta had burst into laughter and slapped his back so hard he doubled over.

Then there was also the mad glint in her eyes, as she studied him just then, and he didn't quite like that either.

"So," Belle began, clasping her hands together, oblivious to his unease, "let's begin with the story." She cleared her throat. "Yesterday night, during my shift, some charming fellow came into the dining hall looking for you. He was _very _disappointed when he found out you weren't there, but then I told him I knew you. So he agreed to let me hold on to _this—" _She signaled toward Elizaveta, who nodded and slipped out of the room "—for you."

"Tada!" Elizaveta stumbled back in, her head completely obstructed by a giant wall of cardboard. For fuck's sake, the card was bigger than _her_! Who even made cards that big? Where did you _buy _them?

"Wh-wh-what the fuck is this?" he demanded, swirling around to Belle, and then gesturing wildly at the—the _thing_. How many trees were killed to make that card, anyway?

"Your present, of course!"

Belle grinned, and then stepped forward to flip the front of the card open. Inside a message was written with a lack of grammatical accuracy Lovino was beginning to find all too familiar.

_if u were a booger i'd pick u first_

_PS: no more messing around now. heros don't hide behind anonymity, so meet me outside the botanic garden at 6 p.m. tonight. 3_

Lovino felt his hands itch with the desire to correct the capitalization, and fix the damn letter abbreviations. At this point, this 'admirer' of his clearly didn't know shit about him, or was purposely trying to blow his fuse.

Seriously, what the fuck? He had to use a card of that size to write three sentences?

* * *

_This time there was a message added to the back of his assignment. Alfred found it slightly unbelievable his teacher didn't seem to notice any of them, but he was thankful for it. He was also thankful for Lovino's audacity to create such obscene insults._

_Alfred honestly couldn't tell if a majority of those insults were even real, but he had to applaud Lovino for coming up with so many. There was a new phrase he learned with every page of comments._

_And there, at the back, was a picture of Alfred's head attached to a pig's body. Lovino's art skills were undeniably impressive. He got Alfred down to the very detail in such a quick doodle. Except for his mouth, which was drawn bucktoothed like a rabbit, and his eyes spun in opposite directions._

_No one else got such personal messages on their papers. It was possible Lovino really hated him, but Alfred liked to believe the opposite. The messages gave him something to look forward to after his papers were graded, because rather than malicious, they came off as quirky and silly._

_He couldn't take Lovino seriously, as much as he tried. Lovino was too passionate and sincere to be genuinely hateful._

_The messages almost came off like letters being exchanged between the two of them. But so far, it had been only Lovino speaking. Alfred wanted to leave a response this time. He had even scribbled down his own message with accompanying doodle the night before. He planned to drop it in Lovino's backpack before class was over._

_But there was no Lovino today. He was apparently out sick._

_Alfred sighed and dropped his head onto his desk. It was relievingly quiet without Lovino, but it was also remarkably boring._

* * *

_To be continued..._


	2. Chapter 2

**A.N.: This story keeps growing longer than I expect. Hopefully it'll be done by chapter 3. As always, feel free to point out any grammar or spelling issues.  
**

**The literature example used here is not mine and is based on an actual short story.**

* * *

"Why are you following me?" Lovino muttered, tossing a glance over his shoulder.

Picking up his pace hadn't stopped Elizaveta from following him, and he didn't dare to bluntly ask her to get lost; she seemed insistent on keeping his company. Her forehead was creased in a concerned frown, a look of seriousness he wasn't used to seeing her in. "You look upset, Lovino," she said, quickly catching up to him. "Where are you going now?"

"The botanic garden, like that _asshole _wrote on the letter."

Elizaveta caught hold of his arm, forcing him to stop. "Calm down. Why are you so angry at this person?"

"Because he's making fun of me! Can't you see?" Lovino jerked away from her, crossing his arms across his chest like a shield. "I just want him to leave me alone!"

"You don't know that," she said. "These letters you're getting may or may not be real, but the least you could do is give them a chance!"

"Why? So you can all have a good laugh at me? Is that it?" It was a second later that Lovino realized his eyes were pricking with tears. "D-Dammit," he muttered, and quickly spun the other way.

"Lovino," Elizaveta said softly, and then her hand was on his shoulder, coaxing him to turn. She took hold of his arms and pried them from his face. "Lovino, sweetie, why are you crying?"

This was humiliating. Lovino knew he should have gone back home and ignored the letter, but his own curiosity got the best of him again. It was easy to pretend the real reason he followed the letter's instructions was to intimidate the culprit into leaving him alone. But in reality, a tiny part of him wanted to believe someone actually _did_ take the time to show some interest in him, as stupid as it was.

"Sh-shut up! Leave me alone!"

Elizaveta sighed. "Listen, let me tell you something…"

"No, I don't want to hear it!" Lovino didn't think things could get any worse, but then…

"Lovino—?" a voice interrupted them "Hey—what's going on? Why are you crying?"

Elizaveta went still and muttered a curse under her breath. "Change of plans, Alfred. Give us five minutes."

But the damage had been done.

It was bad enough he had started crying in front of a girl, and now another person had caught him in such a state. Lovino jerked away as if he hadn't been leaning into her hug and turned his glare on Alfred. "The fuck are you doing here?"

Ignoring his question, Alfred stormed forward and, much to his horror, grabbed hold of his shoulders. Lovino squeaked in protest, but fuck—Alfred's grip was unbreakable like iron. The eyes that were usually sparkling with playfulness were now sharp and focused, and Lovino swallowed heavily. Had he unintentionally broken some no-crying-in-public law?

"What's wrong?" Alfred asked. "Are you okay? Did something happen?"

"W-What the fuck?" Lovino turned to Elizaveta for help, but she had just smacked her forehead in exasperation, rolling her eyes despite the slow smile spreading across her face. "Get away from me! I-It's not any of your business!"

"Dude, don't cry. Tell me what's wrong."

"I-I'm not crying!" Lovino insisted.

"What do you want? Ice cream? Pizza? A hug?"

"No!"

Unfortunately, no one seemed to be listening to his preferences that day. Alfred threw his arms around him anyway, trapping Lovino and forcing his face over Alfred's shoulder, where he was forced to smell Alfred's stupidly attractive cologne and something else that reminded him of cotton candy. He could see Elizaveta snickering in the background.

Lovino's face flamed red. "Let go! I said—I said I'm not crying, dammit!"

And to his surprise, he really wasn't. It wasn't because Alfred's hug was warm or that he was pleasantly surprised someone—albeit nearly a stranger—cared so much. It was just the fact that Alfred had so thoroughly baffled his head that all his thoughts had been scrambled and he forgot what he was crying about in the first place.

Alfred pulled back to take a look at his face, and Lovino instantly covered it. He must look hideous, with his runny nose and blotchy cheeks, though Alfred seemed satisfied with what he saw.

"Great! I'm glad you feel better, but maybe I should buy you an ice cream just in case." Alfred outstretched an arm, as if he was actually serious about taking him out, right then and there. Either the guy was weirder than Lovino remembered, or he planned to "forget" his wallet at the last minute to trick Lovino into giving him a free ice cream cone.

His head swiveled to Elizaveta to shoot her a look of disbelief, but she returned it with a thumbs up and a nod. Was she telling him to say yes? God, he had the most embarrassing friends ever!

"Are you joking?" Lovino pummeled Alfred's chest until he managed to get him to let go, and then took a few hasty steps back. "Of course not!"

"What? Hey—" Alfred stepped forward and caught his arm before he could move away. "Okay, maybe the ice cream was a little soon, but I didn't even get to talk to you yet!"

"Talk?" Lovino raised his eyebrows. "What are you talking about?"

"The messages! You know—the one that told you to meet me here in the botanical gardens."

"Wait, what?—message—you?" Lovino blurted out, just as quickly as everything clicked in his head. He took a step back, sputtering in disbelief. "You were—you were the one writing them?"

Alfred grinned broadly. "Yup! Sure thing! I know it must seem weird and all, considering we haven't really talked in forever. Actually, we never really _talked _before, other than about schoolwork, but—_Ow_!" Alfred lunged back, holding a hand over his cheek.

"Lovino!" Elizaveta snapped, rushing forward to check Alfred's face.

"Why…Why'd you hit me?" Alfred appeared stunned, like a kicked puppy.

Lovino's gaze flickered between the two of them, disconcertingly aware of their reproachful stares. Why were they looking at him like that? He wasn't the _bad guy_. It was "—Alfred—!" Lovino brandished his finger accusingly at him. "This is his fault! Do you really expect me to believe that load of crap? I know I was a dick to you, but that happened ages ago! Why can't you just let it go and end this stupid prank?"

Alfred's jaw dropped, and for a moment he could only manage a few choked sounds. "Wha—prank? What are you talking about? It wasn't a prank!"

"Then what the hell was it?" Lovino demanded.

"I meant it—every word! I've liked you since middle school, Lovino. I know it sounds crazy, but I never forgot you. After the last letter, I didn't know if you felt the same or not, and I just couldn't forget it. You have no idea how happy I was when I found out from Elizaveta you went here too!"

Lovino turned his glare on Elizaveta. "You—I can't believe you knew about this! How do you know him?"

"Chemistry class," Alfred offered.

"I—that's just—b-but _why_? Why would you even like me?"

Elizaveta smacked her forehead. "Alfred, maybe you should put this off for a bit. Lovino isn't in the best of moods."

Alfred shook his head furiously. "No! I have to tell him now! I don't want to put it off any longer!"

Lovino felt cornered, the two of them surrounding him and speaking _at _him, like he was incapable of thinking for himself. He gritted his teeth so hard he thought they might shatter. "You—You—I don't believe it! I don't want to hear it!"

Elizaveta took a deep breath. "Give him a second to talk, Lovino."

"No!" Lovino shook his head viciously. "I _said_ I don't want to fucking hear it! It won't change the way I feel! I honestly just want to be left alone! Those letters were _stupid _and _annoying_!"

The silence was broken by Lovino panting after his rant. He didn't understand why—he had every right to say what he did, didn't he? —but he felt a pang of guilt as he saw Alfred's face collapse. His grin was still in place, but his eyes were glistening suspiciously.

"Alfred, are you okay?" Elizaveta asked. She turned toward Lovino and opened her mouth, but it was too much for him—all at once. Lovino didn't want to hear her yell at him, he didn't want to be responsible for Alfred crying. "That wasn't nice, Lovino," she said, lacking all the fury he expected. All he heard was…disappointment. And somehow that was much worse.

Lovino shook his head, choking, "I…I'm going home."

He didn't wait for a response. He ran.

Lovino expected Elizaveta to drag him back for an apology, or at least Alfred to plead for another chance—he had never given up before. But as he rounded a corner, wheezing, and tossed a glance over his shoulder, he didn't spot either of them.

Neither of them chased after him.

It should have given him relief, but instead a prickle of worry squirmed inside his gut. He had intended to bring an end to the situation, but even though everything was more or less over, nothing felt resolved.

Wasn't this what he wanted? To get the letter writer to leave him alone? Then why didn't he feel satisfied?

* * *

_The next day Alfred came prepared. He had his letter in hand, but he didn't want to directly hand it to Lovino. Lovino wouldn't accept it if he knew it came from _him_, and that plan would no doubt end in his message being torn to shreds without a second glance. He had to trick Lovino into reading it. But how?_

_Throughout class, Alfred kept waiting for the perfect opportunity. Perhaps a moment where Lovino stood up to sharpen his pencil, or left to use the restroom. Twenty minutes went by, and then Lovino finally rose from his desk, taking a long breath. He began moving to the bathroom pass, and then Ms. Keleman cleared her throat._

_"Lovino, can I have a word with you please?"_

_Lovino mumbled his consent before shuffling over._

_Dammit, dammit, dammit. His backpack was in clear view of the teacher, so now Alfred couldn't sneak over without at least one of them noticing him. He bit his lip with impatience, drumming his foot against the floor._

_Lovino wasn't doing much of the talking, but as Ms. Keleman spoke his expression grew more and more displeased. All of a sudden, he shot a glance at Alfred before scowling and nodding to whatever he was being told to do. Once Ms. Keleman smiled and patted his hand, Lovino returned to his seat, a sour expression on his face._

_Alfred looked expectantly at the bathroom pass. Lovino was supposed to leave the classroom! But apparently, it wasn't bad enough for him to remember. The rest of the period passed with Lovino glaring at his desk, and Alfred pursing his lips as he stared at the letter in his hand._

_When the bell finally rang, he nearly leaped out of his skin. He had been so lost in his thoughts he had lost track of the time. He bent over to hurriedly cram his things into his backpack, his notebook, a stray pencil, and…the letter._

_The room was already bustling with students rushing out the door, and Alfred wasn't aware of the footsteps moving towards him until someone spoke._

_"Hey, bastard."_

_His jerked straight up. "Lovino!"_

_"Yeah." Lovino frowned, looking anywhere but at him. "So…your stupid test is coming up, and you obviously suck at this class. I'm being forced to tutor you, and we're going to study tomorrow after school."_

_"Uh…" Alfred stuttered, glancing quickly at Ms. Keleman, who nodded approvingly. "I…I…okay. Wait, how about today—"_

_"No. Tomorrow afternoon, or else I'm telling Ms. Keleman you refused to cooperate."_

_Alfred hummed in thought, and then broke into a smile. "Okay, tomorrow!"_

_Lovino frowned, clearly not having expected such a response. "4 p.m., outside the library. If you don't show up on time, I'm leaving."_

* * *

_It actually turned out to be Lovino who was late. Alfred rushed after his last class, and managed to get to the library by 3:30. He pulled out his phone and played around with some of the games as he waited. He eventually grew so immersed he lost track of time. When he finally recalled his surroundings, he realized it was 4:25. A wave of panic shot through him. Had Lovino showed up when he wasn't paying attention, and decided to leave? Shit, he hadn't even asked for his number. There was no way he could call him and ask him to come back._

_Maybe he could apologize to Lovino the next day and try again? This time he would leave his phone in his pocket, so he wouldn't ignore Lovino again. That is, _if_ Lovino gave him another chance._

_Alfred dropped his head and sighed. The letter was still in his backpack, but his chances of delivering it to Lovino weren't high. He had screwed up, hadn't he?_

_A bicyclist rode past him, and Alfred followed his figure down the sidewalk. His head jerked up when he saw one familiar figure, trudging along with a fixed frown and glaring at everyone. He sent an exceptionally sharp glare to the bicyclist, before he noticed Alfred and flipped him off._

_Alfred jumped to his feet, unable to restrain the wide grin spreading across his face, and jogged towards him. "Lovino, you decided to come back!"_

_Lovino raised his eyebrows. "What the fuck are you going on about? I just got here now."_

_"Oh." Alfred shook his head, laughing. "I must have got the wrong time. I thought you said 4:00 p.m., not 4:30."_

_"Yeah, I did say 4:00 p.m. What's your point?" Lovino shoved past him. "Now hurry up and get inside. I'm not wasting more time than necessary."_

_"Sure thing!"_

_Alfred had expected it to be easier to slip the note inside with Lovino's backpack a few feet away from him, but somehow he had also missed the fact that Lovino would also be a few feet away from him. And with his sharp eyes within such close proximity, Lovino speaking directly to him, it was hard for Alfred to focus on anything, let alone secret plans._

_"Are you even listening?" Lovino smacked the side of his head, and Alfred jolted up for what could have been the fifth time that hour._

_"What? I mean, y-yeah, of course!"_

_"For fuck's sake, you don't even care about this, do you?"_

_Alfred's gaze drifted down to the backpack. He just needed Lovino to leave for a few minutes, maybe to get a book or answer a call. "N-No, that's not it! Of course… of course I care."_

_Lovino raised an eyebrow challengingly. "Okay, then which author was I just talking about just now?"_

_"Um…" Alfred squirmed in his seat. "The…the one. What's his name? W-Walter? No…Edgar? Edgar Adam…Pow?"_

_Lovino smacked his forehead and muttered a curse under his breath. "That's it! I give up!" he snapped, snatching his backpack from the table and jumped to his feet. _

_"What? Hey—where are you going?"_

_"I'm done with this! You don't care, and I don't care if you pass or fail." Lovino spun around, his lip curled in a snarl that made Alfred gulp. "And if you dare tell Ms. Keleman I walked out on you, I'll…I'm going to—I'll make you s-sorry!"_

_Alfred blinked. Hm... That didn't sound too intimidating. But the fact that Lovino was upset, and it was _his _fault caused him to flinch. He caught Lovino's sleeve._

_"Hey…I'm sorry. You're right, I'm an idiot. English just isn't my subject. But don't go. I swear I'll read the story right now— just give me a minute!" A sudden idea popped into his head. "Yeah, why don't you go downstairs, and…think about how stupid I am! In the meantime I'll finish reading, and then we can try again."_

_"I don't know…" Lovino had his hand around his backpack, frowning. "What if I have better things to do?"_

_"Will I convince you if I…uh…" Crap, judging by the way Lovino's glare intensified, his argument wasn't very swaing. What reason could he give? "What if I… Maybe you could…"_

_After another minute of his hopeless sputtering, Lovino snorted and threw his backpack to the ground. "Tell you what. Give me five dollars. I'll walk across the street and treat myself to some ice cream. You have until I finish eating to do the assignment."_

_ "Okay, sounds great!" The first thing Alfred was going to do once he got home was hug his mom for giving him his weekly lunch money in advance. He fumbled through his pocket and pulled out five crinkly one dollar bills, which he thrust into Lovino's palm. "I'll be an expert by the time you get back!"_

_Lovino gave him an unreadable look. "I highly doubt it."_

* * *

Despite what he said, Lovino didn't immediately return to his flat. He headed to the parking lot, and took his car for a drive around the city, going nowhere in particular.

Antonio could be clueless, but he would notice that Lovino lacked the energy to snap back at his comments. And once he realized something was wrong, he would find some way to coax the truth out of him. Antonio was clever like that; his idiocy caused others to unintentionally lower their guard.

Since Antonio was generally an early sleeper, Lovino hoped he would be in bed by the time he returned home. Instead, he was sitting on the couch, and judging by the expression on his face, Belle had told him what happened.

"You're home late," he said.

Lovino groaned. "Leave me alone," he grumbled, storming past him to get to his room. "I don't want to talk about it, and I'm free to make my own decisions!"

"Of course you are," Antonio said without skipping a beat. "But you shouldn't go to bed on an empty stomach. I made too much for myself. _Arroz de tomate_. You like that, don't you?"

Lovino paused by the doorway, and took a hesitant glance over his shoulder. "You planned this, didn't you?"

Antonio simply smiled. "I'll get you a bowl, okay?"

After a moment of hesitation, Lovino sighed and slumped down on the couch. What the hell, if Antonio was going to cook _and_ serve him he might as well deal with it. The questions were going to come sooner or later, and he may as well get them over with. It's not like they could stop him from doing what he wanted.

Antonio returned a moment later, bowl in hand. Lovino accepted the meal, if only because his stomach was growling and not at all because he enjoyed Antonio's cooking.

"So," Antonio began, taking a seat across from him, "how was today?"

Lovino took his time chewing. "…Okay."

"Did anything interesting happen?"

"No."

"Did you meet any cute boys?"

Lovino took a long breath. "Antonio, you don't need to try being subtle. If you have something to say, spit it out already."

"Ah, okay! If you say so! So…" Antonio cleared his throat. "…Your admirer was the boy you knew in middle school?"

"Yeah," Lovino muttered between his mouthfuls, "it was him."

"How did his confession go?"

Lovino paused, holding the spoon out before him. He had never actually heard what Alfred had to say, but that wasn't his fault. He chose his words carefully. "You know how it went."

"I have an idea how it ended, but that doesn't tell me what you felt," Antonio said.

"Fine, it was…" Terrible? Awful? Embarrassing? Lovino couldn't decide which word fit best, and remembering the incident only made his heart flutter like something was wrong, when it wasn't. "It was…troublesome."

Antonio tutted sympathetically. "You don't like him?"

Lovino shrugged. "I don't think so. I mean, it's not that he's a bad person, it's just…" Antonio raised his eyebrows. "N-No, I don't l-like him at all!"

"Oh, that's too bad," Antonio said. "You shouldn't feel bad for rejecting him, since you heard him out. You're not obligated to date someone you don't like, but I hope you were polite when you rejected him."

Lovino swallowed heavily. "Y-Yeah…of course I was!"

* * *

_Alfred waited a good five minutes after Lovino left, just to ensure he didn't change his mind and return for his things. Once he had made certain no one was watching, he tugged Lovino's backpack toward him and unzipped it. He was just going to put the letter in and close it up—that was it. Hopefully, Lovino would read it before realizing what it was. He had cleverly left out his name so Lovino wouldn't throw it away without reading it._

_But once he had Lovino's open backpack in his hands, the urge to peek inside was overwhelming him. Invading someone's privacy was a totally unheroic thing to do, but…Alfred was curious to know what kind of person Lovino was. The type of notes he took, his own private doodles—all insignificant details, but when brought together spoke a lot about a person._

_Taking one more glance to confirm he was alone, Alfred reached in and drew out the first notebook he got his hands on. There wasn't a subject labeled on it, but inside the pages he found a lot of writing. Lovino's English class, maybe? It looked a lot more exciting than Alfred's class, since most of the pages were filled with interesting stories. Without the little doodles drawn by the side or the occasional sarcastic note, Alfred might have mistaken the notebook as someone else's. Some of the stories were a paragraph long, others took up pages. However, most of them shared a similarity of being sweet and funny. Who knew Lovino wrote such funny and romantic things?_

_Alfred was thoroughly immersed. Normally it took a locked room and absolute silence before he could build up enough concentration to get through a sentence, but these words flowed through his mind with ease. It was only when he flipped to a page with scribbled out writing, a poem, that Alfred realized he wasn't looking at a notebook for a class._

_ With a feeling akin to guilt, he returned the notebook to Lovino's backpack. He shouldn't be reading anyone's secrets, least of all Lovino's; unlike his coarse speech, his writing was undoubtedly sincere, and caused Alfred to feel a thousand times worse for sneaking through it. If he was going to read Lovino's journal, he wanted it to be because Lovino _trusted _him with it, not through tricks like this._

_His eyes drifted down to the desk, slightly afraid to turn back to the backpack, and—Shit! He was supposed to be reading his assignment, and at least fifteen minutes had passed without him starting. Lovino could be back any minute and he wasn't going to be happy if he found out Alfred lied to him._

_He hurriedly flipped through the pages until he reached the short story he was expected to read, and with the threat of a pissed Lovino, Alfred was able to finish minutes before Lovino returned. He looked a bit perkier after having his fill of ice cream, but he still glowered at Alfred as he took his seat._

_"Alright then, let's hear what you've read."_

_"Uh, okay." Alfred flipped back to the right page. "The first story is about a guy who was hired to take inventory for some elderly lady, and he finds this painting of a beautiful woman. He gets really obsessed with the picture, and when he finds out the woman in the picture is actually the elderly woman, he kills her."_

_"Not a fucking summary. Explain the protagonist's character. What drove him to kill his employer, if nothing was stolen?"_

_"It seemed like…the guy wanted to preserve things as they were—in their height of youth. That's why he killed the old lady, because her existence reminded him of time and age, and he wanted to pretend that didn't exist."_

_Lovino nodded, looking somewhat impressed. "I guess you do shape up after all," he muttered._

_The rest of the hour passed in relative ease, and soon the insults began to disappear as Lovino rambled on about the subject, and different techniques of figurative language, and other things Alfred barely heard because Lovino seemed so relaxed when he was talking about something he loved._

_It was only when Lovino shut the book that Alfred remembered to blink._

_"Huh? What's happening?"_

_"I've got to get home now," Lovino said, before zipping up his backpack and stepping out of his seat._

_"Already?" Alfred would have gladly spent the rest of the evening with him, even if it meant more reading._

_"Yeah. I already stayed an hour longer than I planned to, and I could be doing better things with my life."_

_"What if I need more help?"_

_It seemed his pleading look didn't work, as Lovino simply snorted. "You'll do fine."_

_With that, he tossed his backpack over his shoulder and paced the other direction. He didn't say goodbye, but the compliment was better than anything Alfred could ask for. He watched Lovino until he disappeared from sight, and then stood up himself. It was only when he reached into his backpack for his cell phone that it struck him._

_Lovino's letter was still inside his backpack._

* * *

_There was no Lovino in class the next day, nor the day after. Finals had already started, so Alfred didn't think Lovino could purposely be skipping class, and he _still _didn't find an opportunity to ask Lovino for his number so he couldn't call him. Finally, on the third day, he built up the courage to directly ask his English teacher._

_He cleared his throat by her desk, once most of the students had shoved their way out the door. "Uh, hey! Ms. Keleman?"_

_Her eyes flashed up from the paper she was grading and she smiled at him. "Hello, Alfred. Do you have another question?"_

_"Yeah, kind of. I was wondering where Lovino is."_

_Ms. Keleman tutted softly. "The 8th graders have a different final schedule, and Lovino should be prepping for his graduation. I guess that means I'll have to grade all your papers myself. Still, it's exciting moment for him, don't you think?"_

_Lovino…graduating. The implication of that statement struck Alfred hard. Lovino wouldn't be in the same school as him next year._

_"When…When do you think he's coming back?" he asked._

_"To this classroom? If you need another tutoring session you can return to my classroom after school. TAs were dismissed a few days ago…I believe the day I assigned Lovino to tutor you. Did it go well? I know he can be a bit hotheaded, but he understands the subject and I felt you could use the help." She smiled after a moment. "Alfred?"_

_"Oh…uh, no! I'm fine, I can study on my own from here! I guess I wanted to say, that…Lovino was a really great tutor, and I appreciated his help."_

_"Well, that's very kind of you! I'm sure Lovino will be glad to hear that when I see him at the graduation ceremony."_

_Alfred's heart beat a little quicker. "You'll tell him then?"_

_"Sure, if you want me to!"_

_"Yes, tell him that! And…" Alfred was about to consider handing her the letter, but stopped halfway. He didn't understand what was wrong. An opportunity had popped up before him, and yet he was…afraid. Afraid of things going wrong. But it wasn't like him to hesitate. Why did his skin feel so warm, and why was his heart fluttering like that?_

_"And?" Ms. Keleman prompted._

_Alfred blinked. "Oh!—Um, that—that I wish him good luck in high school!"_

_Ms. Keleman nodded. "Of course, I'll be sure to tell him. Good luck on your finals tomorrow, Alfred."_

_Alfred left the room, feeling more regretful at his cowardice than miserable at the realization he wasn't going to see Lovino again._

* * *

_To be continued…_


End file.
